I Just Wanna Scream
by Merton Lynn
Summary: He is huddled under his blanket, curled in a ball, shaking and staring at the bedroom door.


Disclaimer: Characters not mine, all belong to CBS and Jerry. Found some of the quotes at http/www.crimelab.nl/csi.php?series1&pageindex2

i.

/i was nine\\

He is huddled under his blanket, curled in a ball, shaking and staring at the bedroom door. The tears that he had shed were long gone and his face is sticky with sweat and the remnants of those tears.

Sidney sleeps soundly on the bunk above him, snoring. She has no idea. She has absolutely no idea. She had been in the kitchen doing homework while he was in the living room. Alone. With Sharon.

Bill and Gillian didn't know. If they did, he knows they wouldn't have gone out and left this last-minute sitter in charge. If they had known Sharon was going to kiss his cheek. They didn't know that Sharon was going touch his collar bone and pull him close to her.

Nicky shivers thinking about it and he feels a new surge of tears. He doesn't want to cry anymore. He feels a knot in his stomach. Twisting and gnawing, making him sick.

He stuffs his face in the pillow and listens to his parents footsteps walking by his room.

"Dinner was wonderful," Gillian says. She is taking off her earrings. They are in her left hand and her right touches the door knob. Nicky freezes.

"I'll check on them," Bill kisses her cheek and the door creeks open.

Quickly, Nicky clamps his eyes shut. Too tightly, because Bill notices.

"Pancho?" Bill sits on the side of the bed. There is no response. "Son." He touches his back and Nicky jumps and squeaks. He is panting. Bill sits up, but doesn't stand any more than a foot away from the bed. "Gillian, get in here."

"Daddy," Sidney wakes, rubbing her eyes. "Daddy, what's wrong?"

Gillian enters. Her son is crying and she sits on the bed. "Nicky, honey?" He falls into the open arms of his mother and weeps into her dress, staining the white silk.

ii.

/a dead body is so heavy\\

He nods, dark eyes glossed over with tears. His stomach twists, but he is terrified to move.

"Mrs. Hendler. I'm a good listener," his voice is weaker than he wants. "You got to give me the gun."

He stares are the barrel and Amy Hendler's finger on the trigger.

Amy cries, Nick cries.

"You arrested my husband," her finger shakes.

Nick swallows. He pants, he sweats and there are more tears. His eyes are begging for her...begging to let him live. He's not going to pretend that he isn't scared out of his mind. He doesn't hide his sob either.

"Wait,"

Grissom comes in, pointing a gun at Amy.

"You okay, Nick?"

"Yeah," he lies. He is churning, sweating and sniffs.

iii.

/my fingerprints; my DNA\\

She was soft, she was beautiful, she was gentle, she let him be in charge, she kissed him, she touched him...now she's dead.

He puts his head against the cool metal of the morgue door. His fingers are numb and he feels like he is going to throw up. He makes his hand into a fist and sways his neck.

Doc Robbins has her body out for him. Nick looms over, reaches down and touches her forehead. She looks like she is just sleeping.

"City will be footing the bill," Doc says. There is a tiny bit of sympathy, but not enough for Nick.

"I'll pay," his voice is steady, but his insides are falling apart.

"Sure that's prudent? Given the circumstances?"

The urge to throw up is replaced with a tiny burning ball of anger. Anger at Doc for attempting to say no, anger at whoever did this, anger at himself for not staying longer, not being able to save her.

"Doc, I'm giving this girl a proper burial," tears in his eyes again. "I don't much care about my career right now," he is dead serious. "Someone wants to throw me in jail for that, so be it."

His jaw tightens and he digs his nails into his palms. He bites the inside of his cheek, hard, and starts to taste blood. to taste blood.

iv.

/you know what a nine-millimeter slug does to a skull at close range?\\

He stands up straight, stiff, staring through the two-way mirror.

"Why me?" he had asked. Grissom's words had fallen deafly on Nick's ears.

"Twenty-five years to life, Nick. It's over," Sara says simply. As if it's that easy.

"Its not over for me," his still stares at the interrogation. "It's over for Jane Galloway." Jane is dead. Jane won't wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat anymore, looking at every inch of her room, sleeping with a gun under her pillow.

Sara leaves, Grissom leaves, Warrick and Catharine leave. Nick doesn't move. He watches.

He is alone and his eyes still are focused on the now empty interrogation room. In his pockets, his hands shake. His back still aches and the cut on his forehead pulses.

v.

/i want you to close your eyes and hold your breath\\

He is dying. He doesn't have much air and he knows that if they have not found him by now. They won't. He does not blame them. He knows that they tried. His hands shake as he lifts the tape recorder to his mouth and speaks.

"My name is Nick Stokes...to whoever finds this tape, give it to Las Vegas PD. There should be a reward," he licks his lips. "Mom..." his voice finally breaks. "Cisco...I know this is a lousy way to say goodbye...but it's all I've got." In the back of his mind there is a sick laugh. "I love you. You raised me right...and I'm going to miss you." his eyes water. "As for the rest of you guys, I know you did the best you could to find me."

He doesn't know, but Grissom is watching.

"Grissom...I know I've screwed up...but I tried...I'm sorry if I ever let you down."

That's when he feels the ants crawling up his legs and he screams.

vi.

/don't take it with you\\

The machines beep slowly and steady. He needs rest, but he knows that he will not be able to sleep. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

The ceiling is cream white. He is next to a window, but the blinds are closed. His mother and father sleep. Jillian holds her son's hand limply.

The door opens and he stiffens himself. He may be under the influence of some pain killers, but he is still tense.

"Hey," Sidney walks in. A smile and tears. She sits on his bed and hugs her little brother. "I was so worried." She kisses his cheek and leans back. "Bo and Steven are on their way. So are the girls."

He nods. She strokes his face and has a sad frown. A frown of pity.

"Tired," he lies.

"Okay," she holds his other hand and he closes his eyes.

vii.

He takes seven deep breaths to keep the rising urge to collapse at bay. He is sitting on a bed, surrounded by white sheets and a woman with dark red hair lays on the opposite side. She starts to stir.

He puts his head down, close to his knees and continues the deep breaths. Dizziness swarms around his head and he sees spots of color, mixing with a bit of fuzzy darkness. He shuts his eyes.

She crawls closer to him and lightly touches his bare back. His body is cold, but covered in sweat. She runs her delicate fingers over his skin. "Nicky." She coos. She knows this drill.

He grabs the silky white sheets and she strokes his back. It takes twelve more breaths to bring him back. To bring him back into the world of an unbalanced and unstable calm. "Nicky," she says again. He turns to her. His eyes are watery and his mouth his dry. "It's all okay. Everything's fine." She reassures him and hands him a glass of water. "Take a drink."

He obeys.

"Better?"

"Yeah," he is hoarse.

"Okay," she smiles, not false or weak. "Lay back down."

He nods and does as she says. She turns off the light and lays next to him. He still is breathing deep. She takes his shaking hand.

"It's all right Nicky. It's going to be all right," there is a night light in the corner that he stares at. She holds him.

/who am i?\\


End file.
